Steel and Stone (33 page)

The two owls exchanged looks, then glanced at Tanis. The half-elf heard no voice of telepathy, but he understood the birds’ intention. At that moment, the unharnessed owl raised its beak and screeched. The sound was enough to raise the hair on Tanis’s neck,
and Caven whirled, fumbling with his sword. At that, the half-elf leaped for the driftwood he’d thrown away moments before, hefted it in one hand, and as the mercenary began to swing back the blade, brought the piece of wood down on Caven Mackid’s head with a crack. The Kernan went down like dead weight.

Moments later the owl with the blaze, the unconscious mercenary lashed to its back, plunged from the ridge into the dizzying space above the churning waters of Ice Mountain Bay. Tanis’s owl followed suit, the half-elf clinging to its neck. Xanthar launched from his pinnacle and swooped into the lead. They circled once, then turned due south.

Behind them, spread across the blue-gray sky, hundreds of giant owls followed.

*   *   *   *   *

Kai-lid
.

Curled on the floor of the icebound dungeon, Kai-lid lifted her head and pushed back her coverlet. Her head swam. She hadn’t eaten for days, although the ettin had begun showing up regularly several days ago, right after Kitiara had been dragged from the prison, to lower a pail of water. The swordswoman hadn’t returned, and the ettin wouldn’t answer Kai-lid’s entreaties about Kitiara’s safety. Several times Janusz himself had showed up and renewed the offer he’d made in the Valdane’s camp, that she join forces with him and continue the magical training he’d begun with Lida and Dreena years ago when they were teen-agers. Of course, he would add, it was assumed that she would don the black robes and become his lover. Each time Kai-lid turned her head away, and
when she looked back, Janusz would be gone, his scent of spices and dust lingering behind him. Her magic was useless in the face of the other mage’s greater powers.

But surely she had just heard a summons. Was she hallucinating from lack of food?

Kai-lid Entenaka. Can you hear me? Have caution. I sense the presence of another, who watches. Do not speak aloud
.

Kai-lid’s trembling dropped away like the sloughed skin of a snake. She forced herself to concentrate, to look within, and to remain seemingly calm in the cold light from the walls, but her heart leaped.

Xanthar, is it you?

A pause.
Do you speak like this with anyone else?

The lady mage practically sobbed with relief. She hid her emotions by rising and moving to the pail of water under the portal. She filled the dipper and drank deeply, all the while focusing her mind for telepathic speech.

Xanthar, my father has enslaved the Ice Folk. Kitiara has been gone for several days. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I fear she’s cooperating with him. I am his prisoner, deep in some ice crevasse
. Quickly returning to the parka and resuming her somnolent position under it, she mentally sketched in their trek over the Icereach in the dire-wolf sledge.
You are near, Xanthar?

We are approaching the Icereach, my dear. I have brought my sons and daughters, and their sons and daughters, plus a few hundred cousins
.

Anyone else?
She let the parka’s hood fall forward to cover her expression.

The half-elf and the Kernan. They will be there soon
.

They? Not you, too?

A long pause ensued, until Kai-lid felt fear twist within her.
Xanthar, are you ill? I told you not to travel so far.…

Don’t be ridiculous
. Even by telepathy, the giant owl’s tone was gruff.
Of course I’m coming. And you must be ready to help us
.

I’m helpless!
She explained the surroundings and Janusz’s offer.
He—he feels responsible for my death—that is, for Dreena’s death. Xanthar, Janusz says he hates Kitiara because she stole his ice jewels, but also because he blames her for Dreena’s death. He says he loved Dreena. I swear I never knew, Xanthar. He taught both of us magic, Lida and me. He says the love of Dreena’s maid would remind him of the happy times of the past
.

The owl pondered long before answering.
You must buy time, and you must get out of that dungeon and rebuild your strength. Comply with the mage, Kai-lid
.

Comply?
Kai-lid couldn’t hide her disgust.
I’d rather die
.

That appears to be your choice, Kai-lid. But this pride is self-indulgent. We need you. You must find out what the mage has learned from the ice jewels. If you have to suffer his advances in order to do that, then you must. I’m sorry
.

But Janusz wants …

Suddenly she felt the owl’s pain through the telepathic link. She interpreted it as empathy for her, and Xanthar did not correct her.
Say you are ill, Kai-lid, weak from lack of food. Put the mage off as best you can. We need a day or two to find the Ice Folk and plan an attack
. A note of forced humor entered his words.
I know you are absolutely unbelievable as a
liar, Kai-lid, but he must believe you, so make a good pretense of going along with him
.

The lady mage sat up, agitated, stroking the sealskin trim on the sleeves of her parka. Finally she nodded, forgetting that the owl couldn’t see her.

Kai-lid?

I will try, Xanthar
.

Then …
The link faded, and Kai-lid sensed that the owl was struggling for words.
Farewell
, he finally said simply.

For now
, she amended.

Of course
, Xanthar said gruffly after another pause.
For now, my dear
.

Then the link dissipated. Kai-lid waited for a time, wondering if the giant owl were truly gone. Then she raised her voice, addressing the walls. “Janusz? Are you there? I have decided.”

Moments later, the mage was at the portal, gazing down at her, hope dancing in his eyes. She let herself sway as she stood looking up at him. “I can stand the hunger no longer, Janusz. I am ill. I will … I will do as you ask, but I need time to recover.”

As the mage surveyed her, Kai-lid felt a shiver of fear. The mage had been watching her, Xanthar had said. Could Janusz tell that she had been mind-speaking? He’d given no hint that telepathy was one of his skills. She forced her expression to remain blank, but her hands trembled. She toyed with the pouches of spell-casting material at her belt to hide her terror.

But Janusz’s next words were neutral. “Very well,” he said. He threw the rope down. “Climb up.”

She tried, but the parka and her fear of touching the clinging ice hampered her. Finally Janusz spoke an incantation and drifted down beside her. He placed one
hand on her shoulder and declaimed a second spell. They rose gracefully into the air, drew even with the portal, and drifted through. Once their feet touched the floor, Janusz helped her down the long hallways to his quarters. She forced herself to lean against him.

*   *   *   *   *

Xanthar almost missed the Ice Folk village. The native people covered their dwellings with white fur and snow, and the village blended in perfectly with the glacial setting. Xanthar was nearly blind by now, and the other night-seeing owls were experiencing difficulty in the glare. It was Tanis who spotted the spindle of smoke that trickled up from one of the dwellings. He shouted, and Xanthar angled down, followed by Tanis’s owl, whom the half-elf had dubbed Golden Wing, and Caven’s mount, whom Tanis had named Splotch, for the mark on his forehead.

At the last moment, instead of landing within the village, Xanthar swung to the south and brought the group down in an open field nearby. The field was outside a wall of gigantic rib bones, taller than a man, that formed a border around the community. The rest of the owl phalanx landed silently. Once again Tanis marveled at the discipline the birds showed. They could fly without a sound, as they had just now, or with a slight change in the way they used their wings, they could soar with the insistent booming that had so unnerved him before.

For a moment, nothing happened. Tanis untied Caven, who regained consciousness to complain about the cold and a splitting headache. Tanis glared him into silence. Neither man was dressed for the bitter wind, which blew right through their clothing.

Then a lone figure, swathed in furs, emerged from a chink in the rib fence. The figure carried a spear and a shiny weapon that seemed to be an ax made of ice. Soon a dozen other figures, similarly dressed and armed, joined the first. At a spoken command, they moved as one toward the giant owls. Tanis slid from Golden Wing and stepped forward. Caven slipped off Splotch, clinging to the owl for a moment, then hurrying unsteadily after the half-elf. Xanthar, a head taller than the other owls and imposing despite his infirmities, shuffled forward, too. Tanis didn’t draw his sword, and when Caven moved to pull his weapon from his own scabbard, the half-elf waved for him to stop.

The two groups, one armed, the other staying their weapons, surveyed each other silently. Then one of the Ice Folk, a man of medium height with a dark, hatchetlike face, handed his spear to a companion and used his free hand to pull back his hood. His hair was dark brown, his face smeared with grease—protection against the cold and wind, Tanis guessed. The owls seemed unbothered by the cold, but he and Caven were shivering.

“You speak Common?” the man asked.

“He and I do.” Tanis pointed to Caven Mackid and introduced the Kernan, then Xanthar, Golden Wing, Splotch, and himself. The eyes of the giant owls widened as the half-elf uttered their new human names, and Xanthar rubbed his beak with a claw, a movement that Tanis had long since realized signaled amusement. Golden Wing and Splotch merely looked at each other, blinking.

“I am Brittain of the White Bear clan. This is my village. What do you want here?” the leader asked.

Trained in the formalities of Qualinesti greeting rituals,
Tanis matched the Ice Folk leader’s ceremonial tone. “We have come to the rescue of two friends, kidnapped by an evil man and brought to the Icereach. We fear for their lives—and the lives of the Ice Folk—if he is not stopped.”

His men murmured, but the leader didn’t move. The wind ruffled the white fur at the edge of his hood. His glance flicked from half-elf to the Kernan, then to the owls. “I believe you are lying. I believe you are an emissary of this evil one of whom we have heard much. I believe that you and your followers seek to learn about yet another village of The People so that you can take this knowledge back to the evil one and his hordes of bull men, walrus men, and two-headed slaves.” Brittain scowled. “You are our prisoners.” He gestured, and a squad of armed Ice Folk strode forward, grabbing Tanis and Caven by the arms.

“Don’t struggle,” Tanis whispered to Caven. “We must convince them that we mean no harm. We don’t have time to fight another battle.”

Caven glared and set his feet in the snow. “I’m a man, half-elf. I will not be taken without a fight!”

Tanis sighed. For a moment, he locked gazes with Brittain. He was surprised to note humor creep into the leader’s brown eyes. However, that hint of goodwill, unless he imagined it, was gone as quickly as it had come.

At that instant, Xanthar, Golden Wing, and Splotch stepped forward. Xanthar lifted his head and trilled, and the giant owls in the field beyond turned and massed into lines. As one, they dipped their heads in unmistakable greeting. Xanthar, Golden Wing, and Splotch leaned forward and plucked the hands of the Ice Folk captors from the arms of the half-elf and Kernan.

Brittain signaled to his followers. “These great birds are not of the Icereach …” he said tentatively.

“They are from the north, as are we. They desire only good, as do we.”

Brittain smiled at last. “We shall see.”

“They come at the behest of Xanthar, who is their elder and leader, not at the call of the evil one.”

Brittain’s smile broadened. “We shall see,” he repeated. “You are hardly dressed for the Icereach. Indeed, the evil one would have more sense.”

Xanthar trilled again, and Tanis, turning toward the owl, felt a familiar sensation within his mind. Could the bird still speak telepathically? Had he the strength? Caven’s own expression was surprised. Brittain, too, seemed alert to some message.

“Grandfather owl,” Brittain murmured respectfully. “The People revere the aged, and you appear to have much wisdom.”

Xanthar’s eyes were closed. His claws gripped the snow so tightly that it melted beneath him. He was concentrating with all his dwindling power, Tanis could see. The telepathy flickered in the half-elf’s brain again.

“The … the …”

It faded and returned. Xanthar staggered with the effort as Golden Wing and Splotch hurried to his side.

“The lovers … three, the … spell-cast maid …”
Xanthar took a shuddering breath and leaned against the two owls.

“Tanis!” Caven hissed. “The dream! What’s he doing?”

“The winged one of loyal soul,”
the owl continued. He opened rheumy eyes for an instant.
That’s me, half-elf
.

Tanis, too, recited. “ ‘The foul undead of Darken
Wood, The vision seen in scrying bowl. Evil loosed with diamond’s flight.’ ”

Caven joined in on the second stanza. To Tanis’s surprise, Brittain spoke in concert on the third.

The last syllable faded, and the tickling in Tanis’s mind ended. Xanthar swayed against Golden Wing for a moment, then he sighed and slumped to the snow. By the time Tanis and Caven had reached him, the giant owl was dead.

A cry of despair rose from Golden Wing, Splotch, and the other owls. Caven swore violently. Tanis was silent. Tears welled in his eyes as hundreds of owls trilled and keened behind him. He felt a hand on his arm and shook it off, thinking it was Caven’s, but the hand returned and Tanis looked up. It was Brittain.